JUSTICE: Deathstroke- A Secret Rivalry
by MegaSam777
Summary: After the events of Batman VS Superman, Slade Wilson is on the run and is bent on getting revenge on Lex Luthor. When plans go south and Slade must survive on his own in the dark hours of Metropolis, he'll learn his real limits and fight between right and wrong in this real-time action-packed sequel to Batman VS Superman. Rated M for brief strong language and brutal violence.
1. Stiff

*** I bet you guys weren't expecting this. I wanted to make a short adventure for Slade because he was just too interesting of a character to leave alone. He'll be featured in the DARK KNIGHT series but not until after Volume 3 which is the last story set before BATMAN VS SUPERMAN. He is an interesting guy because throughut his history, it isn't really concrete on which side Slade calls his own. Sometimes, he is an anti-hero and sometimes he's a straight-up villain. **

**In this story, he is trying to get revenge on Lex Luthor for framing as a terrorist after the events of Batman VS Superman. He will learn that Luthor is man not to be messed with and might even end up saving lives rather than taking them in the end. I will not make it strictly clear whether Slade should be an anti-hero or villain because I'm leaving that choice up to you. I hope you enjoy reading... DEATHSTROKE: A Secret Rivalry**

* * *

"I've got a lock. When do you want us to take him out?"

"Just wait for it, Stands. Be patient." Slade Wilson replied though the mike on his shirt collar.

He adjusted his brand-new tactical cowl and looked though the scope of his rifle. Slade has been on the run for three months after Lex Luthor had branded him a terrorist for an action Luthor himself had committed. After becoming blind in one eye after Batman threw one of his bat-shaped knives into it, Slade had worked with an old associate of his, a man nicknamed the Toyman to make a new battle-suit to fit his new identity. It was a armor-covered tactical suit with a helmet cowl that was split into two colors: yellow on the left side and pure black on the right side. He had a combat belt that slung over his chest and it contained magazines and grenades all in the pouches. He used his good eye to sight in on the LexCorp building and saw his three extra men on the building opposite, hanging down with cables attached to the roof.

"I'll send a warning shot. By then, he'll realize he's in trouble. Then, you send the Bolt. Got it?" Slade said through his mike.

"Affirmative." Stands, Slade's right-hand-man responded.

The Bolt was a new bullet-tech designed by the Russians that Slade had stolen two weeks earlier. It was essiently a highly-electric battery that could be fired into someone's skin like a bullet. The plastic was relatively harmless but inside was a battery that would send an electric shock throughout the target's body when triggered by the gunner. Slade planned to paralyze Luthor and then make him pay for what he did. Being branded a terrorist, Slade was having trouble finding work underground. No one would trust him, even the _real_ terrorists who did actually commit crimes like Luthor. This was his only chance to take him out. And he wouldn't waste it.

He scoffed in disgust as he saw Luthor with hands around the back of his bald, pathetic head as he laid back in his swivel chair, his feet on the desk. He aimed his rifle and was sure that he was asleep. For all of his intelligence, he was a pretty dumb idiot for having his office in front of the city to see. He watched the office below and saw that nobody was coming to pay him a visit. He gave a smirk and clicked his mike, about to give Stands the OK.

"Alright, Stands. You're good." Slade said.

"Alright, final-." Stands began before Slade heard a loud grunt and the slicing of flesh.

Slade looked up into the dark sky and scoped out the side of the building. He struggled to see with his scope and switched to night-vision through his cowl, seeing a large man in a black suit similar to Slade's using the cable to strangle Stands. Slade slammed the rooftop and zoomed in closer, not seeing a face but the faceless helmet of what looked like a soldier. He watched as the man twisted Stands' neck completely around while three more men came down on their cables and zipped up to the top with the rest of the men.

"Dammit! What the hell?" Slade said, looking back at Luthor and seeing him in the same position.

"Whatever. I'm getting this done before I get killed!" Slade said sharply, pointing the rifle at Luthor's head and firing a long-bullet.

It traveled through the brisk Metropolis air and broke through the window, shattering it completely and nearly blowing Luthor's forehead completely off. Before he could congratulate himself, he noticed the stiff reaction of the rest of the body and the lack of any blood from the head wound. He narrowed his eyes and watched in painful anger as a fake right hand fell out of the sleeve, bouncing on the glass-covered carpet. He raised his rifle and turned around quickly, seeing Lex Luthor himself in a military-like tactical suit and seven men behind him, armed with shotguns and machine-guns.

"I'm sorry. Did I look a bit stiff?" Luthor laughed, giving Slade an eyebrow raise.


	2. Car Troubles

*** For those of you wondering why this story is rated M, it's simply because this is a story about Deathstroke, a trained killer who doesn't mess around and will stop anyone in his path. The violence and language present is just a factor in his character. I'm sorry if some of you are offended but I'm trying to make these characters as relatable and real as I can. And if you find yourself rooting for Slade... don't worry, I am too. : )**

* * *

"You've created a nice little assassination plot here, Slade. I'm impressed." Luthor said as his men continued to aim their guns at him.

"What are you planning to do with me?" Slade asked as a man walked over and took his rifle.

"Oh no, no, no. I've learned my lesson with giving the "Here's My Plan" speech. Remember what happened last time? Those two freaks in spandex made me make you a terrorist. I am _truly_ sorry for that." Luthor replied.

"I'm sure you are." Slade growled as he stood up; Luthor's men searching him.

"I'm liking your new look. How's your eye?" Luthor asked, taking Slade's pistol from his holster.

"Fuck you, Luthor." Slade replied dryly.

Luthor laughed and looked over at his men at the other building. They had nearly finished off Slade's crew and he looked over, shaking his head in disappointment. He looked up at Luthor and scowled, forgetting that nobody could see it. Luthor searched him head-to-toe, seeing the grenade belt and all the extra weapons he probably had on him.

"You're a walking armory, Slade. Bulking up seems to work for you. Oh, this is for you." Luthor said, his soldier handing him a tablet.

He held it if front of Slade and Slade nearly winced at the images on the screen. It showed "Rookie", the youngest member of the crew, a twenty-year old man who wanted to help kill Luthor after he canceled a medical supply company to make room for his new stock trade in Metropolis. Rookie's mother died since she couldn't get her liver medication. Rookie's left eye was gauged out and the soldier committing the murder laughed as blood shot out of the socket. He pointed to the man holding the tablet and struggled to talk over his laughter. Slade watched in silent anger as they took all his weapons.

"Hey, look! Now they match!"

Slade struggled not to take the tablet and break it against Luthor's head, knowing that he had to see the rest. Rookie screamed as the soldier stabbed his chest and slowly cut through his skin, blood pouring onto the concrete roof as the tablet camera drifted to the other surviving member, an older assassin named Pete Grace. He was in his late-fifties and had worked over sixty-five assassinations during his career. He had taught Slade everything he knew. Slade's fists cracked when he saw the two soldiers take off his mask and start punching him in the face. He saw the Bolt rifle on the ground beside and saw the second soldier grab it, trying to see the ammo inside the chamber.

"Holy shit! This is the Russian Bolt! This guy knew what he was packing!" the soldier told the camera over the screams of Rookie as his mouth filled with blood.

The solider went up to Pete's temple and fired the bullet, the small amount of space letting it shoot straight into his brain, almost instantly killing him. The man turned on the battery and Pete's body started to convulse and move around erratically. As the two men laughed, the cameraman went back over to Rookie and it showed his mouth full of blood and his chest pumping out blood. The man with the knife threw it downward straight into his skull, the camera cutting off.

"Hm. These mercenaries are so violent. But you don't care do you? Terrorists are usually self-centered." Luthor said, handing the tablet back to the man behind him.

Slade stood his ground and looked back, seeing the city below. Luthor saw him as his eyes flicked to the edge of the roof and Lex raised an eyebrow.

"What are you gonna' do? _Jump_?" Lex laughed, ordering three men to grab him.

"No..." Slade said with an evil tone.

"Kill."

Before Luthor could move, Slade flipped a small bowie knife from a secret holster in his left arm and swung down, stabbing a soldier right in the throat. He pulled the knife out and sliced across Lex's chest with all his might, the first layer of fabric tearing and the metal plate screeching against the blade. Slade dodged a rain of silenced gunfire and flipped the knife to his right hand and breaking the visor on the helmet piece, shards of glass falling to the ground. He grabbed the injured man and tossed him over the edge, gaining his footing before he fell off as well. Slade punched Luthor in the nose as hard as he could and stabbed two more men multiple times and taking one of their suppressed SMGs. The surviving men ran after Slade as he ran across the rooftop and he fired half the magazine in their direction as he jumped across a cooling vent. Dozens of bullets hit one of the soldiers in the head and he dropped dead instantly. Two more men fired pistols at him, two bullets hitting Slade's back vest, making him grunt in pain. He saw the edge of the roof quickly approaching and he narrowed his eyes, sprinting with the force and stamina of an Olympic long-distance runner. He took one large breath and leaped as hard as he could, soaring through the air, seeing an apartment complex fifty feet down. He kept his feet straight as the men above fired at him and he grabbed a catwalk at 30 MPH, spraining his thumb as he bounced off the other wall ten feet away. He slid twenty-feet before leaping off the wall, grabbing the catwalk. He saw the men above leave the roof and he hopped to the ground.

"Dammit! Those fucking sons-of-bitches!" Slade yelled quietly as he punched the brick wall beside him three times, trying to get rid of his anger.

He checked the magazine and groaned, seeing it was half empty. He ran along the narrow alley and stayed in the shadows, watching an old couple walk by him as he slowed his breathing. He waited for a moment before hearing the doors slamming open and heard the sound of Lex's men as they grabbed the couple and threw them against the wall. Slade heard the woman scream and smirked at his chance to escape. He was about to dart down the sidewalk before hearing the woman scream again and saw one of the soldiers smack her with the gun, the top of her head bleeding.

"Have you seen a big man dressed in black and yellow? Don't lie, bitch!" the leader asked, about to hit her again.

"Please stop! We haven't seen anybody!" the husband said, stepping in front of his wife with no fear.

"Wrong answer." the leader said plainly, raising the pistol and about to strike.

Before he could Slade fired one shot and blood sprayed all over his men. The leader fell to the ground in a disgusting splash of blood and brains as the couple held each other and ran towards Slade's direction. The woman screamed when she saw him and they ran past him. Slade ignored them and aimed the gun at the two remaining men. They fired their weapons and blew out the car window behind Slade and he jumped over the roof, hiding behind the hood. As bullets pierced the car, Slade winced at the sparks in front of his face. He rolled onto the ground and aimed for their feet. He fired three bullets in quick succession, missing one but hitting two in one of the man's feet. A mist of blood shot up and he screamed in pain, falling to the ground and firing the rest of his clip at the car, all missing him. His partner ran to the car and fired an entire clip of SMG ammo into the interior, hitting the gas tank and puncturing it, gas beginning to spill on the road. Slade smelled the gas and cursed to himself, hopping up quickly as the soldier reloaded, firing six bullets into his chest, making him land on the ground.

"Where is he?" the man yelled to his partner as blood pumped from the stumps where two toes once were.

"I... I don't know!" the other man responded, painfully getting up as the hot bullets burnt his skin through the Kevlar.

The injured soldier hopped up with his partner and signaled for him to cover the opposite end of the car. He sprinted to the front and his eyes widened as he saw no sight of their enemy.

"What the f-?" the man began.

From the opposite end of the street, Slade smiled and fired his last round at the puddle of gas collecting at the bottom of the convertible.

"Boom."

The car exploded in a haze of fire and hot metal, instantly killing both of the men, their charred bodies flying into the brick wall with a bloody splat and an ashy mess. Slade ran from the scene as he saw the familiar sound of the Man of Steel flying to the scene. From three blocks in the darkness, he saw Superman hover around the fiery car and use his cold breath to extinguish the fire. He saw him check the dead men and Slade laughed quietly before taking off into the night.

"Good luck, Boy Scout."


	3. Chocolate Milk

*** To fully understand the humor I wanted to portray in this scene, Google the song Wedding Bells by Gene Vincent and His Blue Caps. Enjoy.**

* * *

Slade walked for five minutes until he reached a gas station at the end of a city block and rested for a moment, not even hiding the gun as he walked in, the gas station attendant backing up against the cigarette container and nearly screaming. He sighed and pulled out the gun, pointing it at her head with a loose grip, clearly not interested in killing her.

"Please, lady. I'm not in the mood to kill you. I just want a chocolate milk." he said tiredly, walking to the refrigerated section and grabbing a large chocolate milk bottle and sitting on the bench across from the cashier counter.

He took off his cowl, letting his face air out. He put a hand through his military grey crew cut and sighed, taking a large swig of the milk and burping loudly. The cashier looked at him with awe and he stared at her as he took another swig and sat back. The intercom was playing a song called Wedding Bells as Slade sat there and the woman stood still, not taking her eyes off of him.

"What, lady?" he asked, putting the cap on the bottle and tossing one leg on top of the DVD shelf.

"Um... are you going to kill me?" she asked with a stuttering voice.

"Jesus Chr-. Did you not just hear me three seconds ago?" he said, shaking his head and rubbing his good eye.

"I know. But... but... but..." the cashier began, stuttering too much to continue.

"Please don't do that." Slade said, raising a hand.

The woman closed her eyes and began to cry. Tears streamed down her eyes and Slade groaned loudly, banging his head against the wall and sticking his tongue in his cheek. He took another chug of the milk and swallowed as he walked up to the desk, the woman shrinking her neck, feeling threatened.

"What's so bad about me?" he asked, checking the mirror beside the desk.

He saw the problem now. He had bits of brain stuck to his shoulder and blood splatter all over his chest and his cowl. He picked off the bit of brain and accidentally dropped it, hitting the floor with a gross splat.

"Ah shit."


	4. Helicopter Tour

Slade tossed the empty chocolate bottle onto the dirty street and ran into the alleys of the city, far from the revealing lights of the gas station. He held onto the SMG and suddenly saw a helicopter flying through the sky. He noticed it was completely black and had two men on each side with machine guns attached. He raised an eyebrow as he placed his bloody cowl back on, zooming in to see the familiar armor of Luthor's thugs.

"I've got you, bitches." Slade said quietly as he grabbed a small chunk of brick and tossed it into the helicopter with all his might.

It bounced against the side and the left gunman started searching for the disturbance, switching on a giant spotlight and shining it on Slade. He darted inside the alley as the gunman fired, bullets blowing the brick and concrete walls apart, debris flying everywhere. Slade grunted as he barrel-rolled over a Dumpster, hiding behind it as rounds pierced through the thin metal. He remembered he had no ammo and shook his head, trying to think of a solution. After hearing the firing stop, he peeked over the edge of the Dumpster. A spark exploded in front of his face and he flinched back, recognizing the sound of the gunshot perfectly. It was his high-powered sniper rifle. The idiot firing it must've taken it. That was the lowest form of respect in the world of assassins; using their own weapon to kill them.

"We've got you, Wilson! It's over!" the gunman laughed, hooking his cable to the edge of the helicopter and rappelling down with six other men.

Slade saw them from the bottom of the Dumpster and cursed to himself. He looked into the alleyway and switched to night-vision by selecting it with his pupils. He saw a ladder that led to the roof above. It was thirteen meters away and twenty meters up. He would have to move fast and swiftly. He took one large, deep breath and grabbed another piece of destroyed brick, hopping up and flinging it at a soldier's head, making him grunt with pain as it cracked his helmet. He ran with all his strength and jumped off the opposite wall, landing on the ladder from four feet up. Bullets chased him and he deflected two, splitting the empty SMG in half. He grunted as he climbed his way up and felt three bullets hit his right leg, blood shooting from the wounds. He didn't even feel the pain in the intense moment and jumped onto the roof, rolling it an AC unit. He stood by the edge and waited as the men climbed the ladder.

"I've got him!" the helicopter pilot yelled, soaring the copter towards Slade and letting the gunman on the right fire away.

Sparks and electricity flew from the AC unit and Slade hid behind the roof entrance, bullets and their casings covering the roof. Three men hopped on the roof and motioned toward him. He waited for the first victim and grabbed his shotgun, pulling him towards him. Slade grabbed his neck and twisted it backwards with all his might, his neck and spine breaking with a sickening crack. Slade saw that the shotgun had seven rounds in it and he hopped on the roof of the entrance, firing two bursts, the shrapnel, slicing through a solider's first layer of armor and making him scream in pain.

"Bring it!" Slade yelled, firing a burst at the cockpit of the helicopter, the glass shattering and the pilot nearly losing control.

He dodged gunfire and jumped off the roof, hearing bullets whiz by his body as he landed on a man, crushing two ribs with his steel-toed boots and nearly breaking his helmet. He ducked as a man swung his M60 in his direction, taking the butt of the gun and running straight, making the man trip and fall off the roof, falling to his death as his limp body collided with the Dumpster. Slade took two more bullets to the right shoulder and felt a bullet pierced the suit, making him groan in annoyance. He punched a soldier in the face, breaking his visor and using him as a human shield. The men didn't hesitate and fired at him, killing the man as blood shot onto the roof in short, violent burst.

"Shit. I wasn't expecting that." Slade said quietly to himself.

The men continued to fire and one ran at him, Slade tossing the dead body on top of him and nearly blowing his head off with a shotgun round. He took five bullets to the back that threw him to the ground. He quickly got up and grabbed a solider's leg, breaking his kneecap and slamming his head into the pavement. Bullets came close to Slade and he rolled out of the way, nearly jumping from the roof before a cable quickly wrapped around his waist, pulling him back with a painful jerk. He slammed into the roof, the pebbles below him creating a trail as the helicopter hovered low and the left gunman fired another cable, wrapping around Slade's neck. He cussed with anger and struggled to move against the heavy cable, screaming in frustration as the leader of the group held up Slade's rifle and punched him twice in the face.

"Hm. You put up a good fight." the leader said with a smirk, looking at the bloody mess all over the roof.

"I'm sure the Superman'll be here soon and take all you bastards out." Slade said.

"Superman is in _Russia__. _Terrorists set a wildfire and he's stopping it. He won't be back for awhile." the leader said, patting the cowl on his head.

"We've got you all to ourselves." he continued, knocking Slade out with the butt of the rifle.

* * *

When he awoke, he felt blood dripping inside his cowl and the familiar loss of gravity. He flicked his eye open and saw that the helicopter was carrying him to a location. He coughed as the tight cable loosened around his throat as the copter took a swift dip downward.

_Why couldn't this have been simple? Kill Luthor and leave. If only he wasn't so goddamn smart!_

Through his anger and pain, he was still thankful to be able to move again and grabbed the cable attached to his throat, pulling himself up with all his might. He grunted in exhaustion, using all his strength to pull himself up. He was halfway up when he noticed that there were at least six men in the holding section. He slowly pulled himself up, gritting his teeth as he held onto the side of the copter, letting his arms rest for a moment. He hoisted himself up slowly and saw a giant knife inside a holster on the soldiers right hip. He slowly took it out but hit a ridge on the holster, making the soldier panic and pull his pistol out.

"Have a good ride, asshole!" Slade yelled, grabbing his right foot and throwing him out of the copter, grabbing the knife before he fell, his screams heard until he hit the city streets four hundred feet down.

The men all noticed Slade and moved towards him, a man firing his pistol, cutting through the cable connected to his waist. The force of the bullet made Slade let go of the helicopter and fall fifteen feet. As he fell, he knew he had to cut the cable around his neck or he would die like criminals sent to the gallows. He positioned the knife and sliced through it at the last second, grabbing the cut cable and holding on tight as he swung around the bottom of the copter and made it shake. As he approached the opposite side of the holding section, he held the knife tight and aimed it straight for a solider's visor, stabbing through it and going into his left eye, killing him instantly. Slade grabbed the side of the copter and struggled to climb aboard as the copter shook from the difference in weight. He nearly slipped off from his glove that was slick with blood and he hoisted his leg into the holding section, securing his position.

"Kill him! Fuck what Luthor said!" one of the men said, trying to stomp on Slades's leg, narrowly missing it.

Slade saw the dead man's pistol and he grabbed it, firing six times and hitting all of the men, killing them within two seconds. Their dead bodies varied as they scooted around the holding section, two of the men falling out. Slade climbed inside and threw open the cockpit door, pressing the gun into his temple.

"Don't lie to me or your head will be gone." Slade said calmly.

"Oh... oh... okay!" the pilot stammered.

"Where's the man with my rifle?" Slade asked with a gravelly tone.

"What?" the pilot asked.

Slade pressed the mouth of the pistol harder into the pilot's temple and he finally cracked.

"Ah! Bill's at 8th and Smith! They were going to kill you there for the world to see!" he revealed.

"Take me there!" Slade yelled, gathering all the weapons from the dead men.

He loaded up with six pistols and extra ammo, a silenced MI6, seven high-powered military grenades, and a shotgun that carried forty rounds. He spotted an experimental grapnel-gun hanging on the shelf and raised an eyebrow as he inspected it. He held onto it for safe-keeping and cracked his neck as the helicopter flew to where the main bad guy was. He was going to kill "Bill" and anyone else in that building. It was time to end this.


	5. A Job Well Done

*** Here we are. At the end of Slade's story, you may be a little disappointed that Slade's plan doesn't work out exactly as planned but that wasn't really the point. The point of this story was for YOU, THE READER to question the kind of person Slade is, especially after seeing his actions in Batman VS Superman. Whether or not he's a good guy or not isn't up to me. It's up to you. Please comment on whether you think he is! And yes, this is an action story so the ending is over-the-top and violent of course. Once again, that's all part of Slade's character and who he is.**

* * *

"Over there, right?" Slade asked, grabbing the pilot's hair as he pointed to the address.

"Yes!" the pilot said in pain, beginning to lower the helicopter.

"8th and Smith... good boy." Slade said coldly, about to jump as he was thirty-feet from the ground.

He aimed the grapnel-gun hook for the roof of the building and fired it, seeing compressed air shoot out from a chamber and feeling the cable becoming tight as it attached itself to the building.

"Thanks for the ride, buddy." Slade said, hooking the separate end of the cable to the door of the helicopter and jumping out, tossing a live grenade into the hangar as he used the gun's handle to zip down the line as the helicopter exploded, shrapnel and fire shooting into the air.

Slade felt the other end of the cable becoming loose as he was ten feet from the ground and he bent his knees as he hit, rolling into a vent duct. He groaned in pain and stood up, watching the fiery wreckage fall to the streets. He took out the rifle and held it in front of him, seeing three men in military-style body armor run to the side of the building to see the destruction. He hid behind the giant air duct as the men panicked.

"Ah, shit. Was that Wilson's ride?" one of them asked.

"Yep. Oh my God. We're dead." the second one said, backing up as the copter hit the street below, crushing two parked cars.

Slade stood up and silently ran towards the men, screaming as he was three feet away, pushing two of them over the edge. The first men dropped his pistol as he felt the painfully horrible sound of his spine being crushed against the catwalk fifty-feet below. The second man fired a rain of bullets upwards, all missing Slade as the man hit the pavement and died instantly.

"You're damn right you're dead!" Slade said sharply, tackling the man and punching his nose, firing his rifle into his face and creating a bloody mess as bloody concrete bits flew at Slade's cowl.

He heard more men head up to the rooftop and pulled the pin on two grenades, tossing them in their direction. Before they could react, both went off simultaneously and killed two men instantly, while wounding two others, including Slade himself. A piece of small shrapnel was lodged in his right thigh and the metal had gone right through his body armor. As he struggled to remove it, he saw the man he recognized on the tape. Bill. And he was firing Slade's signature rifle.

"You son of a bitch." Slade murmured as the rest of the squad began firing at him.

Slade fired his rifle at the men and hit all of them in their armor that forced them backwards. He screamed in fury and kept his eyes trained on Bill who was trying to hit him. A soldier ran at Slade and he stabbed the pistol in the man eyes, firing twice and watching blood spill all over the roof.

"Bill! You killed my crew!" Slade yelled over the sound of the gunfire that echoed across the city.

Slade reloaded his pistols as three bullets hit him in the back armor and he groaned in pain, blind-firing over the bullet-riddled air duct. He turned his head upwards and felt a bullet hit him in the cowl, knocking him to the ground as heat burned his head. He grunted in pain and reached for the small knife in his leg holster. He heard the gunfire stop and hid the knife in his left hand as his right hand was nearly broke from all its trauma.

"Wilson! You just don't give up, do you?" Bill said, taking the rifle and jumping on the air duct, shooting Slade four times in the chest.

As Slade silently groaned in pain, he watched as he commanded his men to stop moving. Bill hopped off the air duct and bent down to Slade, taking off his cowl and laughing when he saw the bullet a third of the way inside the cowl.

"Wow. That was close, wasn't it?" Bill laughed, tossing the cowl across the roof.

Slade could only grunt.

"Hm. I thought so too." Bill replied to himself.

"Boss. Kill him already!" one of the soldiers said.

"Give me a minute!" Bill screamed at his partner.

Slade held the knife in his hand tight and watched as Bill got close to his bloody face.

"Did you really think you'd get away with this?" he whispered in his ear.

"No. But now I'd say I have a pretty fair chance." Slade responded weakly, stabbing the knife into Bill's jugular quickly before he could react.

Bill stood up, gargling on his own blood as it spilled to the roof top. Slade stood up quickly and watched as Bill tried to contain all the blood in his veins. Bill went into a fighting stance and his men aimed their weapons at Slade.

"No! This is... me... and between him!" Bill said, dazed from the massive blood loss.

Slade prepared his own fighting stance and Bill ran at him, tacking Slade to the ground and taking the knife from his neck and trying to stab it into Slade's temple. Slade fought against his surprising strength and groaned in pain when he let go of the knife from exhaustion, the blade piercing into his right shoulder. Bill smiled with blood-stained teeth and punched him twice in the stomach, making Slade head-butt him hard, knocking him off of him. He grabbed Bill's head and slammed it into the metal vent with all his might, a large wound above his eyes having blood pour from it.

"I'll kill you!" Bill said with a dazed tone as Slade slammed his head into the roof.

Bill jumped on Slade and punched his nose before taking the empty rifle of a dead soldier and smacking him in the back with it. Slade ignored the pain as best he could but could barely hold his pain inside. Bill picked Slade by his hair and kicking him twice in the chest, watching him fall to the ground.

"What's next, hot shot?" one of the men laughed as they gathered around the fight.

Slade narrowed his eyes at the ugly man who said that to him and fired his pistol straight into his private area, making him scream in pain. Bill dodged a bullet and punched Slade twice again before spitting in his face. Bill was laughing crazily and Slade took a deep breath, grabbing the handle of the knife and pulling it out slowly, blood oozing out with every painful pull. Bill looked at him with blood-shot eyes and gritted his teeth, attempting to lunge for Slade before he stood up and stabbed him ten times in the stomach, almost instantly killing him.

"Oh my God! He killed Billy!" one of the soldiers said quietly.

"Fire!" another soldier shouted, making his crew fire at Slade, bullets whizzing all around his body.

Immediately, Slade ducked underneath the vent and watched as orange bullets tried their best to hit him. He blind-fired his two pistols over the side and when the magazines went dry, he switched to the high-powered shotgun. He quickly rose up and killed two men with three shots before crouching back down behind the vent. The men got closer and Slade knew his number would be up if he didn't move. He felt the five remaining grenades in his vest and he pulled all of them out, placing the pins around each finger. He rose up quickly and flung his hands out, watching the grenades fly away and hit the ground. He grabbed his signature rifle from Bill's dead body and ran as fast as he could, leaping off the building.

Just as he was flying through the air, five explosions went off an a gigantic hole was made in the building, body parts and metal debris flying into the air as Slade dove with his legs outstretched into the Metro River located beside the building. He held his breath as he hit the water and looked back up when he resurfaced, seeing the fiery damage. He gave a small nod in the direction of the building and said a silent prayer for his fallen men.

* * *

**one day later...**

As Slade woke up in the alley, he looked on his stolen cell phone and saw a message from his new contact. It was from an old associate who was having trouble in South America. Apparently, a group of tall women in flashy suits and brandishing swords were prowling around and destroying equipment for cutting down trees in the Amazon. The man had offered a million dollars for the reward and of course, Slade took it. A plane would pick him up within the hour.

He sat up in his pathetic bed and stretched his sore body, ignoring the pain in his homemade stitches.

_Maybe Luthor isn't all that important. He's got the alien to deal with. I've only got some women that think they're hot shit. Piece of cake..._

**THE END... **


End file.
